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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25380751">A Loving Meal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/b10f3m4l3/pseuds/b10f3m4l3'>b10f3m4l3</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DC Extended Universe, DC Super Hero Girls (Cartoon 2019), DCU, Gotham City Sirens (Comics), Gotham Girls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cooking, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Polyamory, Trans Character, Trans Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:08:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25380751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/b10f3m4l3/pseuds/b10f3m4l3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Poison Ivy cooks lunch.. thats it! its tender and kind and everyone is happy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gotham City Sirens - Relationship, Harlivy, Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Loving Meal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>fuck you chia "all cooking scenes are awkward".. bitch!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Pamela stood at a lit stove, bare feet against the cold apple-green tile floor. Flicking a red braid out of her face, she placed a saucepan onto the open flame. She poured a few tablespoons of olive oil in, and threw in chopped onion and celery, which sizzled against the metal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Footsteps rang out as her wife, Harleen, walked up behind her and squeezed red-and-black-wrapped arms around her waist. Pamela could feel her wife’s hot breath against her neck, a contrast with the cold kitchen air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s cookin’, Good Lookin’?” The clown queen said into her wife’s ear, before dotting her neck with tiny kisses. Pamela turned to smile in Harleen’s face, waving a hand as lucious green vines snaked through the open window to throw garlic in the pot, growing little wooden branches with which to stir. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Harls,” Pamela said, as she beamed a bright smile into Harleen’s monochrome-makeuped face, her red lips glossy, leaving a mark on Harley’s cheek as she leant in to give her a kiss. “I’m making Albondigas Soup, my mother taught me how to make it so it </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> taste okay.”. Pamela kissed the tip of Harleens nose, and used her powers to cause a pink rose to bloom in her hair. God she loved this woman so much. Harleen, though shorter than her wife, stood on her tip-toes to kiss Pam’s green forehead. Though they didn’t say it out loud, “I love you” permeated through the air and swelled their hearts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pam flicked a lime-green finger and oregano and coriander leaves fell from the vines behind her into the pot, shredding themselves midair. Like a conductor, Pam swished her wrist and upon the vines cumin flowers bloomed, grew fruit, dried and showered down a hail of seeds like rain onto the softened veg.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And besides, Harls,” She said, stepping past Harley, the green skirt of her floral-pattened sundress swirling as she poured stock and tomatoes into the pot, “You don’t gain dominion over the plant kingdom and gain a Phd in botany without learning stuff about spices and herbs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harley fluffed up her bleach-blonde ringlets, which floated around her shoulders, dark brown roots growing out (to Pam’s joy and Harley’s dismay), and took a look round the kitchen. On the counter, near the pot, sat herby, spicy-smelling meatballs, laid out in an orange tray. Harley leant over them and poked them with a red acrylic nail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Red, these aren’t pork, are they?” Harley asked, raising her hand to touch the star of david necklace hanging around her neck, “You don’t get cheat days off judaism, Sweetheart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pamela chuckled, stirring the now-simmering soup with a wooden spoon, the steam from it forming small droplets of water on her green skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned to her wife, who, despite having a full face of makeup on, was decked out in a lazy pair of red and black sweatpants, and a “Harkey Qwinnn” unlicensed crop top, exposing her brown tummy. Taking a disdainful look at Harleen’s choice of clothing (at 1:30 in the afternoon no less!), she proudly said “No pork in these, and all the beef is kosher, promise!”. Harley’s suspicion quickly turned to hunger, and, taking note of the amount of Albondigas, quickly asked if Pamela had made enough. Pam clicked her tongue at Harley jokingly, and reached to pull her in for a kiss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they pulled apart, Pamela whispered “No, Harls, they’re more than enough, in fact a third is for Selina, our dear Catwoman is coming over, ”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“AW MAN.. Red!!! you know hrt makes me hungry!!!” Harley exclaimed in faux-despair, exaggeratedly rubbing her stomach, putting on puppy-dog eyes, “You’re </span>
  <b>
    <em>STARVING ME!!!</em>
  </b>
  <span>”. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pamela sighed and kissed her wife again. “Hrt doesn’t work like that,” she started placing the Albondigas in the soup to cook, “And if you’re still hungry after, we'll have that fucked up “only certain fruits” fruit salad you like, y’know, the one that tastes weird and bad?” (Pam loved it, of course, but she couldn’t let Harley know that).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like it because it's my colours! It’s red and dark blue, that's my whole thing!” Harley  gingerly replied, pressing her index fingers together in a mock shyness that didn’t last very long. Reinvigorated by the promise of fresh fruit, she opened the fridge and gathered ingredients excitedly. Handfuls of blackberries, strawberries, blueberries- but wait… there was so much missing! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Red? We’re running a bit low on fruit sweetheart, mind gettin’ me my favourites?” Harley asked, the question barely out of her mouth before a lone houseplant in the corner burst like a geyser, shooting out boughs and branches of all sorts of fruit, from purple grapes to red, regal pomegranates. Harley harvested them with the fervour of an excited child, but still her face fell. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are the melons, Pammie? Watermelons are the per-” Harley abruptly stopped in her tracks as she turned to look at Pamela, hit with shock as she mistook the large, rounded watermelons Pam held in her hands for  Pamela’s large, green breasts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Pamela said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I-I-I..” Harley began, “I- nevermind hun, Thank you.” She said, taking the melons and the rest of the fruit precariously in her arms. She sat down at the table and began slicing, her “crazy” hyperactivity now so focused that a little pink slip of tongue poked out of her lips in concentration. Pamela watched her cut little cubes of fruit, enamoured by her wife’s sudden precision and control, she could feel heat spreading throughout her cheeks. Or maybe that was just the steam from the soup. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Pamela took a ladle and started separating the soup between shallow bowls, and Harleen piled the cut fruit in a glass fruit salad dish, they heard the front door open, and the clink of glass bottles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Fuckers!” yelled Selina Kyle, Catwoman, as she rushed into the kitchen, “Pam told me to grab some drinks , and I thought of buying some, but instead I stole some fancy lime soda from a Walmart.” She said, kissing both Harleen and Pamela on the cheek and clunking the bottles onto the table before sitting across from Harls. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi Kitty,” said Harleen, smiling at Selina, “Pammie is just cooking now but-” She expertly popped the tops off the green glass bottles Selina placed on the table, “-food’s almost ready. These are alcohol free, right? I’m sober.” Selina nodded, and Harley took a swig of the sour, but tasty drink, reacting by both recoiling from the tang and smiling from the taste.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Selina shed her leather jacket, and adjusted her black sleeveless top, revealing the small flower and clown tattoos emblazoned on her dimpled pale shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pamela put spoons in the three bowls she prepared, and carried them gently over to the table, placing them in front of her dear clown wife and her catlike, lean girlfriend.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled at them, happy and content, and sat down with the two women she loved most in the world. “What are you waiting for?” Pamela said, “Dig in!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you liked it,,, yknow the drill,, kudos and comments pls :3 ily</p></blockquote></div></div>
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